


Attachment And Other Human Emotions.

by duaa



Series: Citizens Unregistered [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Post Apocalypse, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:01:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24491698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duaa/pseuds/duaa
Summary: A young Virgil experiences the aftermath of his first contamination - a relocation base.
Series: Citizens Unregistered [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763830
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Attachment And Other Human Emotions.

In our world, the one we live in, there are two types of people. And no, it's not the easy black and white of 'registered' and 'unregistered'. It was those who got attached, and those who didn't. Attachment was one of the emotions our world tried to... regulate. Eliminate. Which, fortunately, was an easy job for them. There were many things they did to achieve this - nuclear families, lower life expectancy, encouragement of emancipation, and general thought control. Robots and AI were pushed onto people, cutting nuclear families even shorter and shorter; just one human and their robot spouse and robot child. Just one human and their robot child. Just one robot child. Attachment meant loyalty to something other than the government. Attachment led to sympathy. Sympathy led to 'giving people a chance'. Listening to different opinions. 

Listening to radical opinions. That was how the world ended before. That was how the people won. 

Which was something we, the Citizens of this world, should be appreciative of! Had the previous government not been overthrown, we wouldn't exist. But that, right there, was a radical thought. That no one would express. 

That no one should express. 

If we split up the registered and the unregistered, the caged and the free - the unregistered were the least attached. Which did not benefit the government at all. They were ruthless, moving forward and onwards, never looking back nor stopping for each other. It was the way they were brought up, the way they lived and the way they would preach. Each one for yourself. A good strategy, something that the registered simply couldn't comprehend. They waited, stumbled and reached out - defying the government until the sharp, commanding voice cut through the haze, _ordering_ them to stop. To move on. To forget. 

It was ironic. Citizens were supposed to be independent and uncaring, mindlessly following their leaders - just so they didn't end up like the Unregistered. Who were independent. And uncaring.

It made very little sense, but that is to be expected in a world where truth is a fabrication anyway.

* * *

Virgil's eyes darted around the canteen. Holly said he would get Virgil his lunch. Virgil didn't trust Holly - he could poison Virgil. Cyanide wasn't uncommon here, suicide pills everywhere. Apple seeds. Cherry pits. A deathly dose of sleeping pills. Rotten meat, infected, designed to kill him slowly. The kitchens were closed off. They didn't want a new guy going in, in case _he_ poisoned them all. He didn't want someone else to touch his food, he knew they would poison him. In his old center, everyone ate from packets. Stale, room temperature packets. He liked packed bean gravy. It was nice, especially in the summers when it resembled something hot. He liked packed crumble. He tried the original once, bread. It tasted like shit, he preferred crumble. In the winters. They usually ate biscuits. Glucose biscuits. The spherical treat they all loved. Only working people got those. He'd barely started working (and in turn getting those), before they were contaminated. An old lady called Heather, she called the Burners, an infiltrator.

Heather. Holly.

Maybe he was onto something here. He needed to talk to someone here, try and figure out if there was a pattern. 

Wait. Maybe they would set him up. Never mind, he wasn't talking to anyone here. Holly waved at him, emerging from the rusted iron doors, cradling something in his arms. Virgil sunk lower in his seat, sighing when no one looked at him. The last thing he needed was to be _noticed_. Holly managed to squeeze past the plethora of tables, smiling and laughing with everyone. At his old place, everyone had assigned numbers. He was 18629AOJ. He hung out with 18628AOJ and 18630AOJ, as assigned. Hart and Andy. Andy went to the East center. Hart... Virgil didn't know where Hart went. He wasn't here, that's for sure. 

"Hey, Virgil." Holly set down a large bowl of... something on the table. "HERE!" He yelled out, and Virgil flinched. Immediately, people who were sitting idly on empty tables scrambled over to theirs, slotting in. Once every single seat was occupied, Holly shouted, "OVER!" and Virgil flinched again. What was with the shouting? And the general commotion? At his old center, everyone was almost always silent, talking only when necessary. Orders were issued over an intercom. Someone produced tin cans and spoons. Virgil looked at his can - it was the same brand of packaged food he used to eat at his previous place. Someone dumped a ladleful of whatever Holly brought over, and everyone started eating, chatting and laughing. 

"It's chili. Eat up, Virgil, you look so thin." Virgil looked around cautiously, was there anyway he could switch his can with someone else's? He peered into Holly's, realising he had more than Holly did - excellent. 

"Um, I don't eat a lot, here, we should switch cause you have a lot less than me." He slid his can over to Holly, who smiled at him before sliding his own can to Virgil. 

"Gee, that's very nice of you, Virgil! But you are pretty thin, and I dunno how you'll survive till next break!" Virgil prodded at his... chili. It was warm. Hot.

"When is the next break?" 

"Three hours from now."

Virgil shoved a spoonful of chili in his mouth. It was extremely spicy. He choked, coughing as heat flared up around him. Someone patted his back. A cup of water was offered to him, and he graciously sipped at it. 

"Too spicy? Yeah, we noticed everyone from your center seemed to think so." 

Virgil coughed in response, gasping as his mouth burned. 

"What did you guys eat there?"

Eyes watering, Virgil held up the can, tapping at the label. 

"You ate... canned food. _That_ canned food?" Many other people were looking at Holly now, curious stares that were thankfully not on Virgil. 

"Yeah." He managed to choke out. 

"That must suck ass, christ, I always thought those were for like animals or something." 

Virgil stared at him. Animals. Who in their right minds would feed an animal? And why? Where would they even find animals to feed? Except for poultry and whatever else humans ate, there were no animals roaming around. Suddenly, he felt someone standing behind him, and he whipped around - oh, it was just Astra. She was a leader from his old place. 

"You were one of ours, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Here, take these. Get used to this food." She handed him a pack of biscuits. Virgil stuffed the pack in his jacket, turning as Astra left. 

He looked back at his chili. "When was the next break, did you say?"

"Three hours from now." 

Three hours. And all this... chili. He used to get one biscuit and one packed foodstuff for six hours. "What will we be doing then?" 

"Just orientation stuff. Also, don't worry, for next break, we're just eating some sort of meat. We're all thinking of pushing spicy foods to later days, when y'all are accustomed to our food. Real food. Are those biscuits any good?"

"Of course they are. Only workers ever got these." Holly shrugged, going back to his food. Virgil turned to his own. It was still warm. No matter how much it burned, he liked it. It reminded him of his bean gravy. Bean gravy was better.

**Author's Note:**

> lmk if you see a typo!  
> hope you like it ❤️💕


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